


Where Flowers Bloom, So Does Hope

by Llama1412



Series: Petals and Stripes [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Elf/Human Relationship(s), Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Self-Worth Issues, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: Vernon Roche almost died, suffocated by flowers that represented his love for someone he should never have wanted. Now, amazingly,surprisingly, he was still breathing. Which meant he had to deal with everything that had happened.
Relationships: Blue Stripes & Vernon Roche, Iorveth/Vernon Roche, Vernon Roche & Ves
Series: Petals and Stripes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019938
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up where [Earth Laughs In Flowers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27621608) left off!  
> Title is a quote by Lady Bird Johnson

_ “The squad is excited to meet you,” Pillow Tits said casually and both Roche and Iorveth blanched. _

Despite PT’s words, the Stripes were not lying in wait downstairs. Thank the gods. As it was, Roche was in no way ready to introduce Iorveth to his team as – what? A potential lover? Someone who saved his life? His crush?

He didn’t know, and he doubted Iorveth knew either. 

They hadn’t had a chance to  _ talk _ was the thing. Before PT’s interruption, all they’d had time for was some desperate kissing. Which, don’t get Roche wrong, he  _ very _ much enjoyed. But he’d also really thought that Iorveth was a hallucination up to that point, so he was still reeling a bit from the reality.

He imagined Iorveth was probably reeling too. Hell, he imagined his team was probably still reeling, assuming they didn’t hate him for his treachery: loving not just an elf, but  _ this _ elf.

Roche swallowed. PT, at least, had made it very clear that he didn’t care. In fact, PT had even encouraged him to admit to his feelings and confess – though that was mostly because Roche had been dying. Still, PT seemed entirely unphased at Iorveth’s presence, which was kind of nice. Confused and happy and hopeful and lightheaded after his near-death experience, Roche  _ needed _ that calm and grounding presence.

Unfortunately, Iorveth clearly did not find PT’s presence as helpful. The elf was tense and wary and though Iorveth had kissed him and their hands were still clasped around each other’s wrists as PT examined Roche, Iorveth had the pretty unmistakable look of a hunted deer ready to bolt.

“PT, can you give us a sec?” Roche asked. His voice was hoarse and this throat hurt like hell, but he could breathe again. That was the important thing.

He’d – not exactly come to terms, but something like that – with the idea of dying. It was the consequence of loving who he loved, and he’d rather die alone and unwanted than have his shame revealed to the world and die at the executioner’s block, knowing that he’d let his King and his men down.

He’d honestly never expected that there was any possibility that his feelings could be requited. After all, he was who he was, and Iorveth was who Iorveth was. They were fundamentally loyal to opposing sides. Even  _ if _ his feelings were mutual, it wasn’t as if they could ever work.

But gods, Roche really, really wanted it to. Now that Iorveth’s affection had been served to him on a platter, he wanted more of it. All of it. Everything Iorveth was willing to give and more.

It scared him. He wasn’t  _ supposed _ to love Iorveth and he  _ definitely _ wasn’t supposed to be together with the elf. But waking up to Iorveth’s lips pressed against his face, against his lips, arms around him and cheeks wet with Iorveth’s tears – for the first time, he actually believed maybe he could have this. Maybe it was possible.

That was what had given him the courage to reach out for Iorveth before the elf could run. And when Iorveth clasped his hand in return?

Roche let himself hope. So when PT nodded and left them alone in Roche’s bedroom, he turned to Iorveth and chose his words carefully.

“I know you wanna be anywhere but here right now,” Roche said. “I don’t expect you to stay. I know my team will turn up sooner or later. But,” he swallowed roughly, “if – I mean, uh, we should – we should talk.”

Iorveth’s fingers tightened around his wrist for a long moment, and then they pulled away, Iorveth jerking his arm out of Roche’s grip. “I–” Iorveth started, eye wide and wild. “I don’t – this is – I can’t do this,” he shook his head and Roche couldn’t help the way he flinched back.

It wasn’t as if he’d expected anything else, not really. But for one moment there, he’d really thought that maybe– 

Well. Apparently not.

Struggling to get himself under control, Roche forced himself to say, “thank you. For, you know, saving me.”

It was at least nice to know that Iorveth cared about him enough not to want him dead. That was – that was nowhere near what he wanted, but it was something. Respect from his enemy. Roche would just have to learn to live with that being  _ all _ he’d ever get from his enemy.

Iorveth nodded sharply, already edging towards the window. The elf hesitated for a moment, and then, all in a rush, said, “I’m the only one allowed to kill you.”

Roche opened his mouth to respond, just as PT knocked on the door again. In the split second that Roche turned away, Iorveth leapt out the window and took off.

Gritting his teeth, Roche tried not to cry as PT entered the room again.

“Oh,” PT blinked, “where–?”

“Back to the Scoia’tael,” he answered gruffly.

“But–”

“It was never going to happen,” he cut PT off, shoving all thoughts of Iorveth deep down until he felt slightly less likely to break down. “So… how pissed off with me is everyone?”

Pillow Tits pursed his lips, but let Roche change the subject. “Extremely.” At Roche’s flinch, PT hurried to continue, “not because of Iorveth. Or, well, not exactly?”

“Oh?” His voice was hollow and Roche wondered how many other people he would lose today. Not that Iorveth had ever been his to lose.

“I think Ves might tear your spine out,” PT said, “but she’s also covering for you with the king. You’ve had the flu, by the way. That’s the story.”

Roche blinked. “Wait, she’s  _ what!? _ But–”

“She’s well aware of the risks, sir.”

“Yeah, but–”

“And it was her choice to make.”

“Okay, yeah, but–”

Pillow Tits held out a cup of tea while cutting him off again. “Honey tea. It will help your throat. Now, how are you feeling?”

Roche sighed heavily. “Fuck if I know,” was probably not the best thing to say to a medic, but he was too tired to lie. He was still kind of surprised that he was alive at all, and so much had happened in the minutes since then. How was he supposed to know what he felt?

“Hmm,” Pillot Tits hummed, taking his vitals. “I suppose I should expect that a magical disease would magically disappear in the same way it appeared, but just in case, I’d like to keep you under observation for the night. You look like you could use some sleep, though. Is there anything I can get you?”

_ A certain murderous elf? _ he bit back and shook his head, knowing that neither of them were ready to be sarcastic about this yet. Plus, it was entirely possible that if he said it, it would come out sounding far too genuine and Roche had fucked up his relationship with his team badly enough already. If he had  _ actually _ gotten to be with Iorveth? 

Roche knew deep in his soul that to have one, he had to lose the other. It hadn’t been an issue when his feelings were things he never talked about, never thought about, never even acknowledged the existence of.

Now, the stupid wasting disease had forced his feelings in his face – and in his team’s faces. 

In the three days he’d spent feverish and delirious in bed, coughing up flowers, Roche had thought that if the Stripes left him and his love for Iorveth killed him, then at least he wouldn’t have to live long with his failure, his treason, his shame.

Though he’d actually believed otherwise for a precious few moments, Iorveth would never be his.

But if Ves was covering for him, then maybe, just maybe, the Blue Stripes still could be. It wouldn’t be the same as before – how could it, now that they knew what he felt? – but it was still something, something he’d been sure he’d lost forever.

  
Even so, he was  _ not _ looking forward to seeing his team again. Ves probably  _ could _ pull his spine out of his body if he made her mad enough – and he just might have.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roche reunites with his team.

When Roche opened the door, he knew what awaited him on the other side. He had worried his team and scared them and probably pissed them off and – well, Roche hadn’t exactly hired the most stable of people. Their response was likely to be unpredictable.

Nonetheless, he really should’ve seen the punch coming.

“You fucking bastard,” Ves snarled as Roche staggered back, pressing a palm to his eye. He was definitely gonna have a shiner from that hit. Ves stalked towards him and he tried to brace himself for the next hit, only instead of knuckles making contact, Ves wrapped her arms around him in a gentle hug. “You utter gods damned bastard.”

Feeling a mix of awe and fear that  _ Ves _ of all people was being affectionate, Roche slowly wrapped his arms around her. “‘m sorry,” he murmured softly. “I honestly didn’t mean to.”

“Idiot,” Ves whispered. “Your taste in men has always been atrocious. But if you  _ ever _ lock us out like that, I will grind your spine into tiny pieces.” Her arms squeezed around him in emphasis and Roche gulped.

“Understood.”

“Good.” Ves nodded against his collar and then pulled back. “Before the rest of the idiots barge in…” She hesitated and Roche felt a sudden foreboding. Whatever she said next would change things forever. 

He took a deep breath and swallowed. “Yeah?”

A muscle in Ves’ jaw twitched. “I’m resigning my commission, sir.” At his stricken look, she continued, “I – I can’t kill the man you love. I  _ can’t.” _

Oh. Roche blinked rapidly, the ferocity of his emotions catching him off guard. 

He’d thought – he’d thought he would lose them because his heart had stupidly fallen for Iorveth. But here was Ves, his second in command, his protege, his friend – here was  _ Ves  _ doing the exact opposite of anything he ever would’ve expected from her.

“Ves–”

“If you ever do something so stupid again, I will kill you,” she said, pure conviction in her voice, “but I won’t kill the man you love.”

“Oh. Uh… thank you?” Roche tugged on his ear awkwardly. “But you don’t have to resign! Fuck, you  _ love _ being a soldier, it’s – we can figure something out.”

“Can we?” Ves crossed her arms, her expression dubious, but before he could say anything else, five men burst through a doorway that was designed to fit  _ maybe _ two of them. The end result was an ungainly pile of arms and legs that launched itself at Roche and attempted to suffocate him in a hug.

“All right, all right,” he wheezed, trying to fight his way out of the tangle of limbs. 

Ves, who stood clear of the mess, just cocked an eyebrow and smirked at him. “You deserve this,” she said.

“Fair enough,” Roche coughed, someone’s elbow catching him in the solar plexus, “but I think I preferred the punching.”

“Too bad,” Thirteen grunted, wiggling his way closer and wrapping around Roche like a fungus. “Never do that to us again.”

“I won’t,” he promised solemnly. “I swear.”

Pillow Tits, who had apparently waited until the rambunctious Stripes had their fun to make his appearance, squeezed through the doorway and easily plucked Roche out from the pile. Getting picked up by Pillow Tits was enough to make  _ anyone _ feel small and awkward, but Roche felt especially so in this moment. These were his men, his family, and he’d hurt them not just by falling in love with the wrong person, but by hiding it from them and resigning himself to death.

He swallowed harshly. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t,” Fenn sniffed. He wasn’t the only one whose eyes appeared to be a bit shiny, but Roche didn’t call him on it. His own eyes were a bit wet, too, after all.

“All right, that’s enough of that sappy shit,” Finch grunted, shoving everyone away from him and making a beeline for the couch. Of course, instead of sitting on it like a normal person, he climbed onto the back of it to perch precariously. 

The other Stripes took their cue from their marksmen and began to congregate in the living room – some in a more orderly manner than others. Fenn and Thirteen, to no one’s surprise, raced across the wooden flooring in their socks and dove face-first into the couch to claim their spots. PT and Shorty, thankfully, walked like normal people and Silas squeezed Roche’s shoulder before following them, leaving him and Ves alone in the entryway again.

Roche opened his mouth, unsure what to say, but knowing that he couldn’t leave things with her planning to resign. He  _ couldn’t.  _ The Blue Stripes wouldn’t be the Blue Stripes without Ves. Besides, she was 95% of the reason their team operated effectively at all.

“I won’t leave now,” she said softly. “Maybe there is a way we can make it work. But Roche,” Ves met his eyes fiercely, “do not ever send me after him.”

“I won’t,” he swore, feeling something bright shine in his stomach, underneath the simmering fear Ves’ potential departure instilled in him. In her own way, Ves wanted to protect him, wanted to protect  _ Iorveth,  _ if only because Roche loved him.

Ves had never communicated like other people, not with Roche. From the moment they’d met, he had seen in her eyes the revenge that she needed and had known better than to stand in the way of it. She  _ trusted _ him never to stand in the way of what she needed – but also, over the years, she had come to trust him to show her the people who  _ needed _ to be fought. Because at her core, Ves was a fighter and they both knew that if her anger was left aimless, without a target to focus on, it would explode in their faces.

“Ves,” Roche reached out to grasp her shoulders. “I swear, I will find a way for this to work. Just please, give me a chance. It wouldn’t be right, to do this without you.”

Ves bit her lip, but nodded shortly, and he couldn’t help but pull her in for another hug. Surprisingly, she let him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle. 

Closing his eyes against the swell of emotion rising in him, Roche squeezed her against his chest and swore that he would make it work.

  
Things would never be the same and he may not ever be able to have the one he loved, but he  _ would _ keep his family. No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry - I promise a happy ending to this series! For everyone!


End file.
